


Misunderstood

by yuffiehighwind



Series: An Eternity in Cheese Country [31]
Category: Hercules: The Legendary Journeys, Xena: Warrior Princess
Genre: Dual Identity, F/M, Milwaukee, Modern Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-06-01
Updated: 2003-06-01
Packaged: 2018-03-22 10:12:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3725032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuffiehighwind/pseuds/yuffiehighwind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Discord wants to become human. Deimos doesn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Misunderstood

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of the 'fic series "An Eternity in Cheese Country," and here's why - after they were killed by Callisto and Xena, the souls of Strife, Discord, and Deimos were reincarnated in the late 20th century into three humans named Steve, Veronica, and Dave.
> 
> Originally composed June 2003; revised April 2015.

Ooooh, it's almost as mesmerizing as watching the spring lava flow down Mt. Vulcan. It's called a lava lamp and it is sitting on Cherile's desk. Eww.  
  
David doesn't know where Cherile is. It seems she moved out or maybe she got busted a while back the night of the concert. It seems ages ago.

 _Oh. It was a week. Probably less._  
  
Veronica tears her eyes away and gets up, walking into the kitchen. She must look so clich é right now, clad in one of Dave's extra-long t-shirts with the name of an obscure punk-rock band scrawled across it.

 _Oh. It's Cherile's. Right._  
  
She grabs a pack and a lighter off the counter in the kitchen and starts puffing. Exhaling she wonders what the queasy feeling in her stomach means.

 _Oh. It's guilt._  
  
The last week she's been fooling herself into believing that she's back on Olympus raising hell. The last week she and Dave have been practically joined at the hip like old times. One time they even got on the news. Always one step ahead of the cops somehow 'cause now they're record-less and crashing at Cherile's place. No, that's just her stuff lying around the apartment. It used to be Cherile's because she and Dave used to be inseparable. Something's wrong with this picture.  
  
Veronica plops down on a rickety stool, flicking on the TV on the counter and idly changing channels. She almost expects the illegal satellite to go wonk and the literal picture to snow. No, it's just in her head. She's no better than Ares now.  
  
Unless Cherile really _is_ in jail and really can't be bothered with sharing a bed with Dave anymore. She only has some fugly woman named Bertha no doubt sharing her bed, and a part of Veronica chuckles at the discomfort Cherile surely feels now, psychologically or otherwise. Because there is no way petite, ditzy Cherile, no matter how much nonexistent street cred her spiky-haired head thinks she has, is going to weasel out of that. She is Bertha's bitch now.  
  
_No better than Ares._  
  
Veronica inhales and recalls the time she realized Ares didn't give a shit. One of many, no doubt, because the denial would always creep back in when he'd run a finger down her cheek and give her that _look._ Ares had a look. A special look that made her think she was the only person in the universe Ares cared about. In fact, he didn't care at all. He was too busy banging...  
  
Goddammit, where _is_ that boy? She's forgotten about Steve. That isn't right. Then again, she finds herself calling Dave, ya know, that other name. She'll look at that face as he makes love to her and he is...  
  
Veronica's hand itches to pick up the phone and call him. Go back to the old apartment. Give it another shot at being human. The other half of her pulls back and insists starting shit all over town with Dave is a better idea, no matter how much his doppelgänger calls to her. She is not Ares. She _does_ care.  
  
_Pick up the phone, woman!_  
  
The least she can do is call him. Maybe together they can track down Cherile and reunite the lovebirds. Quit messing with something she knows nothing about. Coughing from the smoke - since when did that ever happen? - she curses herself silently for ever sleeping at Dave's apartment. Nobody else understands her? Screw that! Steve understands. Steve _loves_ her, goddammit. Why does she continue to dance around the issue after millennia? Because that's how she is.  
  
Dave walks into the kitchen. Walks past her and goes for the cereal. Another detail he and his cousin-twin Steve share. They love their cereal.  
  
He flips over the box. Empty. Veronica figures he'd put it back in lieu of tossing it to chuck later. Apparently he'd forgotten. There are several boxes like this. She exhales another toxic white cloud, mouthing a word with a ring of smoke. _Dumbass._  
  
"Where'd all the Captain Crunch go?"  
  
"You ate it."  
  
"Nuh-uh. The box was right here."  
  
"You put it back in the cabinet after you ate it."  
  
"That don't make sense."  
  
"Sure it does. Trash comes once a week."  
  
"But why the cabinet?"  
  
_Because you're so goddamn dumb._ "Lazy."  
  
This satisfies Dave's curiosity for the time being. He heads for the refrigerator. It is empty except for beer, mustard, and ice cream, and there is only one scoop left. Veronica notices some bread on the counter. She puts out her cigarette in the nearby ashtray, grabs the bread and a knife, and snags the mustard. Breakfast. She misses Steve's groceries. Dave considers alcohol a food group.  
  
As Dave finishes the ice cream, Veronica munches on her impromptu meatless sandwich. The bread is stale and the mustard tastes of cigarettes. No, that is her tongue. Dave doesn’t seem to keep toothpaste; he tastes of beer. She remembers that Steve smelled like pepper but tasted like Ares. She remembers hating him for it.  
  
"You hungry?" her not-boyfriend finally asks.

She nods, replying, "Thought you'd never ask."

 

* * *

  
  
Two showers later and the not-couple are out the door and on a bus to the good side of town in search of a decent diner. Barely enough money for pancakes and a tip and Veronica misses Steve's computer art money and The Communist's old shit to pawn. She does not miss the strip club she worked at. She finds herself missing her ex-boyfriend Dennis' money, though. She likes nice restaurants. Dave insists capitalism is evil and they are better off scrounging at underground punk clubs. Veronica prefers Dennis' cynical acceptance of human nature and Steve's idealistic love of it. Dave's appeal is wearing thin.  
  
It isn't just that he can’t buy her pretty things. It isn’t just because he has that annoying laugh or terrible dress sense either. It isn't even because he can’t always make her come, even back when he was a god, or that he always insists he’s right. He admits he isn't with a look, despite the tall talk. No, she is sick of him because he is just ordinary. Just mediocre. And he is a fake. He is fake about everything. He was even fake when he was a god. At least sometimes Steve will admit he acts false. Something about him is different from Dave, despite being twins in almost every sense. They are especially different now that they’re human. Veronica has a feeling Dave will always be in denial about it. Steve won’t. He'll evolve. He'll grow. He can do that. She isn't sure why and she isn't sure she'll ever know, but he can.  
  
Cherile hasn't lived thousands of years; she can live with this creature and be content with it. Veronica just can’t.  
  
"Dave, I think we made a mistake."  
  
"What, you wanted bacon instead of homefries?"  
  
"See, you just proved my point."  
  
"Is this about being 'understood' again? Because I totally get the whole god-human thing."  
  
She sighs. He does, in his way. She’s grateful for that, but...

"I know, Da...Deimos. But I think that's it. I think you'll always want that old life back, and I've got to move on."  
  
"What are ya talkin' about Discord?"  
  
"I've got to become a human and I can't do that with you."  
  
The waiter's badly timed entry comes with a confused and vaguely frightened expression. He pours their coffee and scampers away.  
  
"Become a human? Are ya nuts? What about all our fun times?"  
  
"Oh grow up, Deimos. It was cool while it lasted. But there's more to life than torching buildings and kicking puppies."  
  
"Don't forget switching the pills in the old folks' home."  
  
"Yeah, that was pretty sweet. Wait, what am I saying? It's over, Deimos. Frankly, your immaturity infuriates me, and you're not that great in bed."  
  
"What the hell ya talkin' about, lady of the seven orgasms?"  
  
Again, the waiter arrives at the wrong moment. He sets down the check and backs slowly away.  
  
"Goodbye, Deimos."  
  
Veronica gets up and leaves. She tends to do that.  
  
"Discord. Discord? Hey, Discord!"  
  
He starts to follow her.  
  
"Uh, sir?"  
  
The waiter tries his luck.  
  
"Yeah, pipsqueak?"  
  
"Y-You...You didn't pay the check yet."  
  
Groaning at the effort, Dave pulls out the last of his money, tosses it on the table and walks out. It barely covers the bill, leaving no tip. The waiter is thankful enough at the fact the not-couple is gone.  
  
Veronica does not see Dave for a long time afterwards.  
  
Steve makes her fix his broken stuff.


End file.
